


Since you were gone

by DoraTLG



Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: A little angst, AO3 1 Million, Anal Sex, BDSM, Canon Related, Canonical Character Death, Choking, M/M, Not Beta Read, OK maybe much I really don't know I torture my characters on a regular basis, Rimming, Rough Sex, Self Confidence Issues, Self Harm, behind the canon story, if you forget about all that rage and selfhatred and sadness, not as miserable as it looks like, quite a happy story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:18:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoraTLG/pseuds/DoraTLG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When James Bond starts his own mission, looking for any proof that the current Quartermaster of MI6 is a lying bastard, he doesn't expect a little genius to cross his way. Even less does he predict the force with which the boy envades his life and in his own ways helps him through the worst. In return, he... well. He does mean well. I guess we all deserve to be selfish sometimes. And if Jeremy wants to be the one to take his rage, then who are we to stop him?</p>
<p>In which Q isn't Q for a very long time and everyone has secret demons they can not handle. </p>
<p>(A backstory to the canon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am in a need of beta. REAL need. This isn't my first language.  
> I warned you.

Agent 007 stepped inside a bunker in the Jewish part of London. It was in really a bunker - and the agent didn't so much step inside as kicked the heavy door and with a Walter pressed to a man's forehead made his entrance. He liked his entrances.

The man was the owner of this bunker and a shop in it. Well, shop... you wouldn't buy anything here besides services. And in that this was a good shop. Before 007 happened.

Actually, if Bond, James Bond, agent 007, MI6, England hasn't kicked into the door, he could have entered just fine. And the owner would help him very gladly without the gun he was staring at now. But Bond had no time for that. OK, he had, but who would waste time with discussing over prices? He was the type of a guy that would go to a grocery store with a Walter.

"You have five seconds to tell me where I find the best hacker in this town."

But the owner was used to this. He lived in a bunker, for Christ sake! It took him six minutes to phone to the right people and get the information.

"28 Beattie Close, Feltham. Don't shoot his mother."

 

The house was red with a front yard. Bond was a true expert in what he did, but this building really didn't look like a hackers den. Maybe a decoy house for snipers. That wouldn't please him.

He rang the bell, waited for some seconds until the door opened and showed a little sweet lady.

"Hello there!" she greeted him with a big smile. Bond didn't know what to say for a while.

"Are you looking for Jeremy?" she asked. Bond frowned.

"I'm looking for anyone with computer skills."

"That is my Jeremy. He is a genius," but she didn't look like a proud mommy, this sweet lady was pissed off. For about ten seconds.

"Come in, honey, you can sit in his old room and I will call him to come over."

"He doesn't live here?" Bond asked, stepping inside. Proper way, this time.

"No, he is a grown man, but he still didn't change his address."

Bond nodded, knowing already know more about her son than she did.

Jeremy's room was upstairs and a lot different from the rest of the house - not so nice and old but full of computer stuff, new, old, broke.

"Please, don't touch anything," was the last thing the lady said to him before she left.

Bond sat down and waited.

In just about fifteen minutes the door opened again. Young, hairy boy with big eyes and messy black hair showed up, breathing heavily from running.

"Oh," he said with relief. "I was... I thought..."

Bond understood. That bunker guy must have called this boy and he was afraid the agent would harm his mother. That spoiled Bond's theory about him a little.

"I was told you are the best hacker in the town," Bond said. The boy quickly came to his breath again.

"If we're speaking of hacking, I'm the best in this world," he said with just a little of pride in his voice. "In other things, I'm pretty good."

"Other things?"

"Tech service, building machines, gadgets, stuff... I can even assemble a gun if you're interested."

"I need you just to hack somewhere," Bond said, hiding a slight amusement. "How can you know you're the best in the world?"

"Because I am. On the net, you can tell. Till 2007 the best was one guy named Dmitri Galushkevich, but then he was arrested and... well, I kind of took his place. By hacking into the CIA without them even knowing. And stuff like that. Convinced?

Bond slowly nodded.

"So, you're telling me you never had any problem in what you do?"

"Not in hacking. Well, not anything technical. Not anything... no."

"No?"

"Not a story for you. It wasn't hacking, don't worry. So, if you're interested, I can get to work."

With that he came to his desk, which Bond didn't even notice under all those cables, sat down and opened one of those better looking laptops.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Hack into MI6."

An electric shock went through the young hacker. He straightened up and the keyboard slipped from under his fingers. The agent couldn't get a direct look at his eyes but he could tell they were even bigger than before.

"Are you crazy?" Jeremy asked with disbelief.

"You told me how you hacked into CIA and MI6 is crazy?"

"CIA is in America. They don't look for people from different continents, they think we're apes. And if they contact MI6, they don't care. But if I fuck directly with them... we have a saying in the sane circles - NEVER BREAK INTO ENGLISH SECURITY. They will beat you up with tea pots."

Bond smiled. Tea pots and bulldog statues.

"I can guarantee you safety while you work with me. And you said you are the best. Don't let them know you're in there."

Jeremy stayed quiet for a while.

"OK," he finally put his fingers back on the keyboard. "What do you want to do?"

"I'll tell you when you'll be there."

So Jeremy got there. In about five minutes.

"It's not exactly Microsoft Corporation, you know," he murmured to Bond.

"Are you in?"

"I am... absolutely safely there. No one... following me. I guess we can work now. What do you want...?"

"Find anything about Q section."

"Q section?" Jeremy frowned. "What is...?"

"Do I look like a man who answers many questions?" Bond almost growled. He hated letting others do his job and this was something he didn't understand - how could he know this boy wouldn't miss something important?

"This looks... I don't know, all these code names are confusing. I'm in something called Q branch files, it's most of the space, much of intern politics - you see, just employees, their files, a really big bunch of files about operations, hope you are not interested in those, and... what the..." he leaned closer to the screen. "No, nothing, just tech support payments."

"What could you do with materials like that?" Bond was pointing at the screen with payments still on it. Jeremy sighed.

"I don't know. I would make guns. You can do anything with this. Bombs. Gadgets. See, I use processors like this in my computers," he reached for a small metal plate in a tray at his desk. "These are special for... that doesn't matter. But this little thing costs much more in MI6, as I see."

"What?" Bond leaned closer to the screen.

"Well, I buy this for much less than they do."

"What about the other stuff? Do you recognize something from it?"

Jeremy slowly scrolled down.

"This," he pointed at another item.

"More expensive?"

"Much more."

"Who bought it?"

Jeremy clicked on it.

"It is signed by some... Benedict Josh."

Bond sighed. He knew. He just knew.

"Look next."

They went through everything. Not just Q branch but every corner of MI6. At the end Bond knew there is something rotten in the state of Denmark. Jeremy knew he stepped into a shit.

"So," he said when everything was done. "About killing me. Can we do it later?"

Bond looked at him. Jeremy was a little pale, looking at the monitor full of top secret information.

"How can you guarantee me you won't tell anyone about it? You are clever enough to understand all of that," he nodded at the laptop. Jeremy thought about it for a while.

"I can live without tongue..."

"Can you live without your hands, too?"

Jeremy sighed and shook his head.

And then Bond realised he doesn't want to kill him.

It was just a boy. A boy with his mother, his computers and destroyed dreams, trying to survive with the little he had. Jeremy wasn't evil. He wasn't his mission.

"Take that and come with me," he waved at the laptop and left the room quickly with Jeremy right behind him.

 

An hour later, Jeremy was sitting in M's office, as Bond explained him, and staring at a statuette of a bulldog with painted British flag on its bag. M, surprisingly little old lady with rock hard face and expression of someone who always looked down at people, which was anatomically impossible, was in a seriously looking conversation with the agent. Finally, she nodded and waved him off. Bond coughed Jeremy's glance and he quickly turned away. When he looked again, the agent was stubbornly studying the carpet with M's hard eyes on the side of his head.

"OK, stay!" she sighed, then crossed the room to her desk and pressed a button on a phone lying next to her computer.

"Moneypenny, send me Q, please."

"Yes, madam," the voice answered. Jeremy remembered a ginger girl behind her desk in the foyer.

"So," the silver-haired woman brought him back to reality. "You are not shaking, sweating, if you weren't holding that laptop as a shield I would think you are doing just fine. Are you?"

Jeremy looked up at her. She wasn't the mother type of old woman. In fact, she was more of an annoyed lion.

"I'm as fine as one can be while waiting for death verdict."

"You are not going to die."

Jeremy felt a big stone fall from his chest.

"Now I'm even better."

M sat down.

"007 told me you are good with computers. What can you say about that?"

"That I am the best hacker that ever browsed the internet," now Jeremy didn't sound as confident as with Bon. He was afraid that the eyes of this woman would kill him even through facebook.

"How can you know that?" she asked.

"Because I've met them all and defeated. There are some ways to tell."

"And you broke into our system in seven minutes."

"I guess..."

"Seven minutes and thirteen seconds," Bond added his deep voice a pleasant change in the static electricity of the room. Jeremy was suddenly really glad he was there. It was... comforting.

"I understand you are way better than anyone in Q branch?"

"I... I don't know if..."

"Oh, you're a genius, for Christ's sake, act like one!" she lost her patience. "I'm not going to bite your nose off!"

Bond coughed. They turned at him and saw him hiding a grin with his palm.

"Oh, you two are like children," M shook her head. "I was going to ask you to teach him how to be professional, but..."

"I can teach him," Bond straightened his face again.

"Can I..." Jeremy felt like a child, like these "parents" were talking about summer camp he doesn't want to go to. Or... does he?

"We have a little problem," M turned to him. "Or we just got rid of one. There is going to be a lot to do in Q branch now. Can you handle serious job?"

Serious job. Deadly serious. In MI6, where every second step could kill you. Where probably your whole identity will be lost for better sake and your family... well, your mother will need a very good protection.

But that all you know. You can protect your mother. You can do nearly anything when you have your laptop. Your identity? You had that just for a cover, anyway. And your life... well, let's say it isn't so dear to you to not risk it for a little fun.

"Just a little question before I can discuss this further," he leaned back in his chair. "You want me, a criminal, to be one of the very people that have access to people's lives through a computer? Are you insane or do you just like to play with your food?"

"I am professionally amused," Bond said, walking towards them. "I'll take care of this," and he grabbed Jeremy's hand and dragged him out of the office.

Miss Moneypenny wasn't alone anymore - a man in a lab coat and glasses stood at her side, waiting for them to leave. Very repellent.

Bond dragged him to the...

"Toilet?" Jeremy raised both eyebrows.

"I don't have an office."

Bond sat on the sink.

"So, what is most unbelievable?"

Jeremy put the laptop on his right Bond's right side and jumped on his left.

"I am thirty, kicked out of MIT, helping criminals and half-living with my mother. Just because I helped you I'm all of a sudden trusted?"

"Who do you think works here?" Bond asked. "The best Cambridge students? Think of it as a paid internship. A little work to do for good money. For now."

"Still. Doesn't this kind of... ruin personal life?"

"If you're lucky enough, you don't have one."

Jeremy looked at the man. He had his hands crossed at his chest and back pressed to the mirror.

"Can I see my mother again?"

"I don't know."

"Have you seen your family since you're here?"

Bond looked straight forward, lines between his eyes deepening. "I don't have one."

Jeremy awkwardly looked away.

"I am sorry."

"You didn't kill them."

They reminded in silence for some minutes, thinking each of something else.

"It's your decision," said Bond finally."I promise you no one will kill you with a tea pot."

Jeremy nodded with a smile.

"I think I've decided. I could take some legal danger for a change. Anyway, I don't think you would let me live my life as I used to. I'm yours."

"Don't tell me. Tell M."

And he did. He threw his life away to get a new one.


	2. Chapter 2

Daniel Trate. That was his new name. New name with new history, with no connection to his old life. New flat and social number. Old computers.

He had to get used to this new life and position in MI6. It was all a little overwhelming. No one knows who he actually is and he was their "new guy for crisis situations". Everything was new. He felt new himself.

And it made him happy. Here he was someone again, with a permission to use any computer as long as he reported his actions. Some were on the edge of legality, but who cared if he never done anything against the country? He didn't have to. He had everything.

In two days he improved technical connection so no one could break into it like he did. After a few weeks he invented a new security system for the whole MI6. 

After two months they stopped his reports. Jeremy didn't know about it and kept sending them. 

And he didn't know about two people that watched him, either. M with her frowning asked about him every week and Bond asked her about him every time he thought his sarcasm and ignorance would cover his concern.

Bond visited the Q branch once before he left to Madagascar for his first double 0 mission. He found Jeremy in the middle of a fight with something looking like a cable octopus.

"Daniel," he said to draw his attention. Jeremy looked at him and something warm jumped in his stomach.

"007," he said. In these past few weeks he learned everything about agents and the double 0 section, especially about this freshly promoted agent.

"Are you here to teach me how to be professional?"

"No one took care of that?" Bond lifted something small from the table.

"I wouldn't play with that," Jeremy said cautiously. Bond quickly put it back. "On no, no one did."

"Well, then I will. Just wait for me to come back."

"Can I rely on you?"

"Have I ever disappointed you?"

"In those five hours we've spend together? No, I think not."

Bond smiled. Jeremy started to like this crooked smile already in M's office three months ago when it was the only comforting thing around him.  
"So, why are you here? I'm sure it's not chatting with me," he said to turn the conversation other direction and pushed away his irrational hope that it could, in fact, be because of him. The rational part of his mind - the bigger one - knew the possibility of that.

"No, I had a different reason, but the chat was very pleasant. I was told you have something for my mission."

"Oh, right. I think I could give it to you..." Jeremy searched the whole room. "Andy? Is everything for 007 ready? Can I...?"

Andy nodded to one wall covered in small lockers. They went there and Jeremy opened a locker with 007 imprinted on it.

"Walter," he said and eyed the gun all over. "With a new trigger, I see. I hope they know what they're doing, cause this looks a little easy to pull."

"You don't trust it?"

"I have no word in it and no clue what you like, so..."

"Can I try it?"

"Of course, in a minute. Ordinary safe system for a cardiac arrest," he pulled out another item. "Of course, won't help if you get shot."

Another thing Bond doubted he will ever use.

"A suitcase with a secret base and a false code."

"False?"

"Decoy is a better term. You can put in two codes - wrong and right one - the wrong one locks the case until we unlock it with a special one. Or a hummer."

They went to the shooting range. Jeremy gave them both earmuffs and found bullets that fitted.

"Do you know how to shoot?" Bond asked.

"What do you think?" Jeremy peeked at him curiously.

"Logic tells me you could. But you don't look like the type."

Jeremy nodded. He just finished filling the magazine. After Bonds words he turned to a target about twenty five yards from them and fired six shots.

"Nice," Bond said, amused. "Very nice."

They saw even from this distance that all shots ended up in the chest.

"I suppose you can do it from hundred yards, but I learned it from GTA and one thief, so..." 

"You would kill," Bond nodded. "How is the trigger?"

"I still prefer those you have to pull harder. You don't have to be afraid that the gun will fire in the wrong time.

Bond nodded and took the gun. He chose a further target and after refilling the magazine fired three shots into it. All in the head. Then he put his finger on the trigger gently and pulled very slowly. It fired.

"You are right," he said. "Absolutely useless when it comes to threatening. Can you fix it?"

"If Andy will allow it."

"There's no time for that. I know Q branch politics, it would take ages."

Jeremy raised both eyebrows.

"My first lecture of professional behaviour?" he asked, but took the gun and gave it a close look. "When are you leaving?"

"At five."

They both looked at their wrist watches.

"Give me twenty minutes and it won't be just the trigger I change. I mean - if you trust me," he looked him in the eyes.

"I trust you absolutely," said Bond and realised he really does. This boy's done nothing to deserve his trust, but Bond wasn't afraid he would hurt him in any way.

"I'll be here, come later," Jeremy was already walking out of the room.

Bond looked around himself. What should he do? Go to the grocery store for some chewing gum? Other stuff normal people do?

He shrugged his shoulders and took another gun from the locker.

When Jeremy came back, Bond was firing into the farthest target there was.

"You have nothing to do?" he asked.

Bond changed magazines. "Sleep would help, but I don't think that's possible here."

"I've got something for you then," Jeremy opened one door and showed him a small, cold room with only one big mattress on the floor. Bond looked surprised.

"I hope you guys just SLEEP on it," he said and put the gun down.

"Don't worry, it's just for emergencies."

"And I am an emergency?"

Bond stepped through the door sill, tried the mattress with one foot and lied on it.

"Thank you," he said tiredly. Jeremy nodded and closed the door.

 

Three hours later Jeremy opened the door. The whole time he was in the shooting range, watching over. No one really used to practice here but just in case... he didn't want anyone to disturb the sleeping agent. Now he opened the door and found him on his right side, turned on the door.

Jeremy leaned against the door frame and eyed the blond man's body. Jeremy wasn't keeping his sexuality a secret, but no one asked. If someone did, he would say he doesn't even care. If he liked some woman, he would fuck her. If it was a man, he wouldn't care who fucks who. If he ever will ever like a horse, then he will make sure that the horse knows about his deep feelings.

Oh, yes, and he was really sarcastic about it.

And now he liked Bond. Of course he did - who wouldn't? But Jeremy had a very big brain and he knew everyone with his eyes on place would be attracted to this agent and the agent had surely very strict filter.

He was watching Bond for just few seconds, the way his chest moved with every breath, the curve of his arse in tight jeans. When he looked at his steady face, he found out it's not that steady anymore. Bond was looking at him, his cold war eyes opened and fresh.

"Another man that wakes up just when I look at him," Jeremy sighed. Bond stood up.

"Double 0 agent. Be glad I didn't pull out my gun."

"I have your gun," Jeremy frowned.

"You don't think I am armless, do you?" Bond closed the door and made some stretches to wake his body.

"That is a comforting thought," Jeremy murmured. Bond went to him.

"Have you fixed the Walter?"

Jeremy proudly showed him the gun.

"Thank me later," he said.

"Let's hope so."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some action in this chapter!  
> For future references - this story is wrote in a weird timeline - it starts when Bond is promoted to be double oh agent at the beginning of Casino Royale and ignores all the Bond movies before. It's like Bond's 007 life is only Casino Royale, Quantum of Solace and Skyfall. Sorry for my English again. I really do try.

"Daniel!"

Jeremy turned on Karla, an older woman specialized on bombs. It was the oldest person around MI6.

"M called for you."

Jeremy put everything down immediately. He was still quite uneasy around the little woman. In these three months he met her only twice and was afraid this means he screwed something up. He wasn't aware of anything, but from experience he knew the ice can break just because the air is warmer. Or it can melt. Oh, God, don't let it melt.

He went up to M's office.

"She doesn't want to be interrupted," Moneypenny said quickly as he walked to M's door. He stopped and nodded. His hands were sweating.

"But she did call for me, right?"

"Yes, but now 007 is in there. Please, sit, it shouldn't take long."

Jeremy nodded and sat down in a big sofa covered in black leather. He never felt very comfortable in it - it reminded him of a specific, very unpleasant situation involving leather. Let's say... not every experiment ends with both sided pleasure.

The door opened after a few minutes and Bond came out, absolutely devastated, obviously tired and irritated.

"Daniel," he tilted his head in Jeremy's direction. Jeremy stood up and waved him before he walked unto the lion's mouth.

M was seated behind her desk and it was very imposant, how such a short woman could look so magnificently.

"Daniel," she welcomed him coldly and Jeremy had a hard time finding his voice.

"Madam," he said finally. M wave him to sit down.

"You've been hired here in spite of your past. Please don't make fools out of us by doing the same mistakes you did before again."

Jeremy felt cold air flowing around his internal organs.

"Agent Bond told me about the gun. I know you were pushed by the time, but I don't want this to happen again. If you have to do something quickly, you tell me. If I am not available, Tanner is. In the worst scenario ask Moneypenny. Do you understand?"  
Jeremy nodded. "I am really sorry."

"I believe that. And another thing. You will report me about everything 007 does."

Jeremy hesitated. M noticed the uncertainty in his eyes.

"I know Bond can be very charming and overwhelming man, but don't get a wrong impression. He is dangerous. He tries to do everything for his job, but sometimes he has to be stopped for his own good. I know 007 would never menace the safety of England, but he would rather destroy himself and I don't want that. He is a good agent."

Jeremy was stunned. M just confessed something about herself and about Bond. She tried to explain it in a professional way, but Jeremy could feel her concern.

"Now go to work," M stretched her fingers on the polished wood. "And if Bond wants anything, don't give it to him. He is banned from active service."

He left her office with a sigh of relief. Gosh, he was lucky M didn't like him, not like poor Bond, fully attracting her mother-needs.

He found the agent already waiting by his desk.

"You should get some sleep," Jeremy said as he walked towards him.

"I should get a Novel price for peace, but life isn't fair."

Jeremy wanted to say something cocky to show him how unfair life is but then he stopped himself. One shouldn't live in past. Some time ago he could say his life is miserable and not at all equal to his education and intelligence, but now it changed. If you forget that he was the brightest person in this room and spent half a day making coffee for his superiors, this was a dream job.

"Did you bring back my gun?" he asked.

"No, sorry, but you can be proud of yourself, it saved my life."

"I am glad, but that gun was a prototype. M won't let me make another one."

Bond looked at him and his tired eyes showed a sparkle of interest.

"I had to tell her. She knows everything. And it could help you."

"Yes, well, thank you for your concern, it really HELPED me, show M I can't keep my hands off illegal activities. And it really helped YOU, since from now on I have to report every your movement," he spit angrily. Bond straightened up and quirked a corner of his mouth in a small smile.

"First lection of professional behaviour - if you're told to stalk someone, don't tell him. He knows and if he doesn't, he's an idiot and doesn't deserve to know."

"So you know?"

"Of course I know. Are you going to tell her everything?"

"Well... I should."

"Yes. You should."

They kept looking at each other for a few moments. They really should be doing what they were told. But somehow these two men never did. M surely knew that. She doesn't even want them to.

"Keep in touch with me," said Bond. "In case my life will depend on playing TETRIS."

"I thought you are banned from active service."

"Yes. I am."

And then he left. The fact he caused an international conflict just few hours ago Jeremy found out a day later. And that was too late to stop him from doing it again.

 

In two days he was on a plane with the rest of MI6. He was the only member of Q branch there and certain that the reason was to drop him into the ocean. M was seated in front of him and although Jeremy was starting to read her shades of frowning and she didn't look like murder, he was sure she knew. She KNEW.

They landed on a flat landing area of a private airport in the backyard of a five stars hotel, just half a mile from the beach where they were heading. Jeremy carried a little suitcase with tech stuff.

It was really hot in there. Wind around the water was refreshing on his face, but he had to undo the first two buttons on of his white shirt and leave the cardigan in the plane.

The beach would be perfect if it wasn't for the dead body in a hammock. Men from medical surrounded it immediately.

"Where is Bond?" M asked authoritatively. "Make sure he sees her. Daniel, get him. I want to talk to him."

Oh, the execution in her voice.

He took his laptop out of his bag and turned on the basic tracking system. Then he pulled out his self phone and dialled agent's personal number, the one he found in his file, the one he had no right to see and had in his computer.

For no reason at all.

"Bond?" he asked as the ringing stopped. "What continent are you on?"

"Daniel? Is it you?"

"Yes, congratulations to your bulletproof insurance of my identity. Now get your arse in front of Galiarde Hotel."

"Why are you so angry?"

"I get often sarcastic while staring at a corpse."

Bond was quite for a little while.

"Are you in Bahamas?"

"For Christ's sake, Bond, you are the Intelligence secret... please, just come here." he said tiredly. Maybe the plane did it, maybe the dead woman in front of him... but he was really done with this day and it just started.

"Well, when you plead so nicely..."

He hung up, so Jeremy didn't get the chance to shout at him.

"Madam?" he called after M, who was watching the distant horizon behind the sea. Frowning. "Bond is on his way. Should I send some dozens of agents to try to arrest him?"

M's features softened for a second before turning to him. Jeremy panicked a little, maybe it wasn't a good idea, joking with the head of the judgement day.

"I am not here to entertain him. Just tell him I am not happy."

Jeremy thought about how she could look like when she is happy. Impossible.

Bond showed short after that, his barbequed face a little bloody as well as his blue t shirt.

"Daniel," he nodded as he passed him, heading it straight to the little woman, now just few steps away from the corpse.

Jeremy was a genius for a reason. Looking at their conversation, now he understood M's mood. Standing above a dead girl covered in blood and sand, she was happy. Well, maybe not happy, but in some strange way satisfied. She was proud of Bond. Proud, because he disobeyed her. This was a strange world. Everything was forgotten as long as Bond was still England's pet.

Then he got chipped by one of the medic's guys and Jeremy was the one who checked the signal on his laptop.

"So, your first corpse?" asked Bond when the medic left. Jeremy looked at him sceptically.

"I don't do first times anymore. You would be surprised by what happens in places I grew up in."

Bond smirked and leaned close to him. "I bet there are SOME first times."

Jeremy smiled mysteriously. "I don't think you would be able to find out."

"Oh, don't underestimate me!" agent's eyes filled with a strange light that Jeremy linked with a challenge. He tried to focus on the screen, but all he saw was the little red dot marking the place Bond was standing at. Then something occurred to him and he turned to face the older man.

"Do you have first times, 007?" he asked. Bond quirked his eyebrows and smiled.

"What do you think? Is there something I never did in my life?"

Jeremy felt a rush of endorphins go through him. He wanted to surprise the man, show him that he's not the only one with experience here, that he's not some sort of big, intimidating guy that could have everything. He wanted to show him that because he knew that Bond is EXACTLY that. So he took the one step that separated them and kissed him.

The kiss wasn't very long, but it was enough for Jeremy to understand that Bond wasn't surprised at all. After a split of a second he started to reciprocate and Jeremy found it very pleasant, their lips flushed together, hot breaths in the hot air and even the smell of Bond's sweat was welcomed.

"So..." whispered when he backed off. "I guess that wasn't a first time... for any of us." And was cut off by another kiss, this time initiated by Bond. When they finally parted, Jeremy quickly looked around and almost chocked when he saw M, looking straight at them. Oh God, why doesn't he just throw himself into the ocean? Bloody idiot!

He tried to survive his panic attack. When he looked at Bond, the agent had a cocky grin on his tanned face.

"Would anyone notice you're gone?" he asked, his lips very close to Jeremy's ear.

"After what we just did? My brilliant brain tells me it COULD be suspicious."

"Well, your brilliant brain can figure out the best place for us that won't be suspicious."

"Bond, M is looking RIGHT AT US!" he hissed nervously, trying to escape from the agent's determined embrace.

"Good for her."

Jeremy gasped as Bond's hand grasped one of his ass cheeks. In spite of M staring at them, chance to shag with this man started to be very attractive.

"Don't you still have a room here?" he asked, giving in and tasting the saltiness of his neck. The skin was so beautifully rough, he could feel every little hair under his tongue.

"After they end it here, it's their next station," purred the agent.

"I'll lock us in."

"Great."

They walked into the hotel under M's intense gaze.

"Madam?" Tanner stood by her. Apparently, he saw them, too. "Should I stop them?"

"Why?" she turned on him. "Are you afraid Daniel will get pregnant?"


	4. Chapter 4

Until Bond and Jeremy stepped into the luxury room, they acted absolutely naturally - like they have nothing to do with the corpse outside and they just go for a business meeting or a friendly coffee. After the door closed behind them, something wild broke between them.

Bond pushed the younger man against the door and kissed him in a slow motion, tasting, licking into his mouth. Jeremy could still feel the scotch he must have been drinking just some time ago. He never liked alcohol, but that sharp taste on someone's tongue was one of the best things in the world.

He was unbuttoning Bond's trousers, feeling his growing erection and was happy to find out that his reputation didn't lie. Just when the agent's talented mouth lowered and attacked his neck, other door - those on the bathroom - opened and an older dark skinned woman almost got a heart attack.

It must've been the strongest believer, because her position allowed her only to apologize and leave, but this one started swearing in a weird English dialect, kicking them out of the apartment. The two men ended up in the hallway, recovering from the strange situation. Bond looked at them both - his open fly and Jeremy's messed up hair and shirt, flushed and sexy, Bond had to admit it.

"I will fuck you," he said, determined, but closed his fly. "But not in the elevator. Tonight, my flat, I'm sure you'll find out the location."

In the elevator Bond smiled at Jeremy's poor state and smoothed his hair. Jeremy looked into the mirror and straightened the shirt. Bond, as always, looked like the God himself - well, maybe a little beaten up, but in some way, that was even more attractive. That really didn't help to chill out.

The corpse would help if it still was there, but the police already took her. The team was ready to go. M wasn't there, only Tanner waited for them, nervously kicking the grass with his expensive black shoe. Jeremy was suddenly glad they didn't get the chance to have sex - how embarrassing would it be if MI6 waited only for Bond and him to stop fucking? God bless you and your hotel maids.

The flight back home was excruciating. Jeremy tried to look normal, but the only thing he could do to make his mind busy was counting the miles under him and that REALLY wasn't helping.

Bond raised his glance from a glass of whisky and looked all over the plane. Tanner was reading a report from one of the police men. M was staring out of the window, not giving any attention to this world. Behind her was seated Jeremy and Bond was surprised to him him all green and gripping his armrests.

He found a first aid kit under his seat and walked over to Jeremy.

"Daniel? Could you help me?" he pointed at the cuts all over his face. Jeremy nodded and Bond waved his hand on two seats in the back of the plane. Jeremy looked like he wasn't sure he can walk, so Bond grabbed him firmly by hand and helped him.

They sat close to each other and Jeremy opened the kit.

"No stitches, I hope."

Jeremy looked up and - how is it possible to have such a blue eyes? The contrast with the blood made them even more beautiful.

"We don't want to ruin that face."

"Finally someone appreciates it!"

"Sadly not the one who beaten you up."

Jeremy rubbed a cotton swab covered in antisepticum into the biggest cut. "No, no stitches. How come you even have a face after all those wounds you ever received? Not a scar..." his fingertips brushed uncut skin on his temple. One corner of Bond's mouth twitched in smile.

In the next minutes he had fun watching Jeremy biting his lower lip - he probably doesn't even realise he is hissing instead of the agent whenever he dips into another wound.

"Is it just your face that need care?" he asked when he finished.

"I don't think it would be appropriate if I undressed here. I'll show you later," he smiled with a light in his eyes.

"007, how long haven't you had sex?" asked Jeremy quietly and looked in those oh-so-fucking-blue-eyes.

"Very long. It's not true - what they say. I don't fuck everything that moves. But when I see something I like, I get it."

Jeremy quirked his eyebrows.

"And yes, I like you," his big palms touched Jeremy's thighs.

In the next eight hours they talked and slept - Jeremy found it so much easier to relax with the agent. When the plane finally landed in a private helipad area near London, he had to admit this was the most pleasant flight of his life.

"So, my flat, eight pm," said the agent before they got into different cars and were driven into the MI6 Headquarters.

When Jeremy walked into the Q branch, it was full that kind of buzz that couldn't be good.

"Daniel!" a voice cut through the air. Jeremy recognized an alarm in it and in a second he was in his professional mode.

"What's wrong?" he asked, heading down the stairs and into the mass of people in front of the main computer.

"I think..." one of the techs said. "I THINK we have a problem."

Jeremy looked at the screen.

"Fuck."

 

Bond stood up from where he was seated in a chair opposite to M, finally dismissed.

"I want the report by tomorrow," she said, barely even looking at him. She was studying something on her computer screen.

"Tomorrow evening, right."

"Morning. I count on you to write it this evening."

"I've got plans for this evening."

"If those plans involve Daniel, you'll find that he is not able to participate in them. I don't think he will be allowed to leave the Headquarters until midnight. Something happened in the network and he is, apparently, the only one who can solve it."

Bond sat down again.

"That boy is a genius, isn't he?" he asked.

"Yes, he is."

"You want to keep him."

"I do."

"Could something he would do for me spoil his career?"

M looked at him with her icy eyes.

"You should be worried about your career right now. You are not being sent on this mission because you are the best - your double oh status isn't active even a week and you've already made me more problems than the whole double oh program together. You were sent there, because you started it."

"I appreciate it."

"You bloody should. Now go!"

The agent left the office and headed it straight to the Q branch.

Jeremy was in the middle of the room, surrounded by computers and shouting commands all around him. In that moment he looked like he ruled the whole department.

In fact, the staff didn't do anything. They stood there, watching him, or running around when they were told. Jeremy was clearly the only one who could fix the problem at hand. The best one.

Bond stood there for several minutes before deciding he needs to collapse. And eat, maybe. Yes, definitely eat before dying.

 

It was nearly three AM when Bond woke up. He slept in his flat, just in case Jeremy would come, but the chance was weak. If M said midnight, midnight it is, maybe even longer.

He looked at a digital clock on his bedside table. Maybe he was tired after work and decided to go home. Bond wouldn't judge him. But he started to understand the boy's personality and Jeremy wasn't someone who would bail on you, even more so, if "you" means "double oh agent who wants to fuck him".

So, two hours later, he stepped into the Q branch. The whole base was quiet, few office members were writing their reports in rooms on the top floors of the building, but the Q branch was abandoned but for one person. Bond opened the glass door and found only one laptop turned on and a young boffin typing tiredly on it.

Jeremy didn't even notice Bond until he sat next to him. At any other time, he would experience a heart attack, but now he just looked up a few seconds later, realising what this visit means.

"007... I am really sorry, I... couldn't come."

"I know, it's alright. M told me there's been a problem."

Jeremy nodded and returned to his work.

"Have you solved the problem?" Bond asked, watching the screen.

"Yes, I just wanted to finish this off... in fact, I can do it tomorrow, but I can't just stop now, if you know what I mean..."

"I get it, you're in a GO ON mode. But you really should get some sleep, it was a long day."

"Only thirty hours."

"In which you flew two times, visited a different continent, was sexually frustrated and watched this bloody screen for more than is healthy."

"Well, I hope at least you've slept."

"Yes, and eaten, which, I suppose, you haven't either."

"No... lots of tea, though."

"I just hope you had time for toilet and don't have a bottle somewhere in here."

"I don't have bottles. They stink."

Jeremy rubbed his eyes with knuckles of both his hands. "I need glasses," he murmured.

Bond leaned over him and closed the laptop. The biggest room in the Headquarters went to complete darkness.

"Go to sleep, Jeremy."

Jeremy blinked few times. It wasn't a surprise Bond remembered his name, but that he used it - no one did that in months. Not even his own mother, since he stopped seeing her - not because he couldn't, but because his work was satisfying enough. Weird, sometimes you find out your love isn't as strong as you thought.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." started Bond.

"No, it's... it's OK. My name is a secret just officially. You wouldn't harm me with just "Jeremy"."

"I know. Your colleagues, however..."

"No one could. I am a little better in hiding than you may think."

He didn't even notice he was already lying on the table, mumbling his answers sleepily. Bond sighed, helped him up and into the small room next to the shooting range where he slept last time. Jeremy lay down on the mattress and was out in a second.

Bond stood there, watching him with mixed feelings. Strange little kid... strange young genius.

"My report," he remembered then and left the room, closing the door carefully.

In three hours he came back to check on the boy and was more than surprised to find the mattress unoccupied. He ran to the Q branch and found it already full of morning workers, and in the middle of this computer plantation, fresh and with a mug of tea, Jeremy was running his own kingdom.

"What are you doing here?!" Bond couldn't hide his amusement. Jeremy looked like after eight hours of sleep, although little more messy and his breath smelled of menthol and Earl Grey. The agent wondered if he had a toothbrush here somewhere or a pack of chewing gums.

"I am in my work mood, I can't sleep more than two hours. I learned that in school. I have about four hours before I collapse, not literally, and I want to do that in my own bed.

Bond just shook his head, bemused. This boy is a machine. Well, who isn't in this place?

"Do you have anything important to do?" a stupid question escaped him. Everything Jeremy ever did here was important, but there is still hope in life.

"Define important."

"Nothing is more important than what I want to do to you."

Jeremy froze for a second with his mug half way to his mouth. There was a dark promise in those words.

"Jema! I'm leaving!" he shouted to his superior briefly and leaving his mug on the table he headed for the door, his agent behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan a pure pwp for the next chapter, if anyone is interested ;-)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond and Jeremy have FINALLY time to do the do.

Jeremy's new apartment was very close to the MI6 base, few minutes by car. Few very tense, very expecting minutes. Bond drove them in his (in fact, it was a part of his equipment) Aston Martin, Jeremy sat beside him, looking out the window, trying not to peek at the agent too much. He felt the adrenaline you feel after two hours of sleep and his blood acted like it doesn't know where to go. He hoped it would pick one place soon. Just the thought of what they were going to do was enough to know the place he wanted to fill.

They parked in front of a big house. It was parted to four flats, one of which was Jeremy's, totally new, totally empty. He had just one bed and one arm chair in the living room.

The instant the door closed Jeremy was pinned to the wall and kissed hungrily, his tongue sucked into Bond's mouth and Jeremy purred when he started with small bites. He whined at the lost when the agent pulled off.

"What do you like?" he asked. Jeremy opened his eyes in shock.

"What do I like?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes," Bond's hands went under his shirt and touched his hips. Jeremy shivered. "Slow?" his blue gaze seduced him with only its existence. "Hard?"

Jeremy sighed in understanding. Bond was a spy - he had to seduce people on a daily basis and he had to do it just the way those people wanted it. Sex was a weapon, way to make people lose their heads. Bond was used to pleasing his lovers.

"You don't have to please me," he said, running his palms through agent's chest, feeling the heat and muscles under the fabric. "I want to know YOU enjoy it. I want to do what you like," and he leaned to his ear and whispered: "I want you to lose it completely. I want you to scream while coming and the only way I can reach that is that you'll do what you want."

Bond's breath caught and the next thing Jeremy knew was Bond pinning him to the wall, strong arms holding his hands up and biting the sensitive skin on Jeremy's neck. He groaned and pushed against the agent just to feel his strength. He didn't want 007 to think he doesn't like what he's doing, but he just had to struggle, he tried to push as hard as he could but had no chance against Bond's arrogant embrace, teeth marking skin. Jeremy was confused - how could Bond know he isn't raping his technician, until he heard himself, panting, moaning and sighing. Strong hands grabbed his shirt and ripped it off, buttons falling on the floor, exposing his bare chest.

His young body was much more haired than the muscular one of his agent. Bond was obviously enjoying this difference, biting and licking Jeremy's nipples, tracing a thin line of black hair disappearing in his trousers with his fingers.

"On your knees," he said with that deep voice that made women lose their panties. Jeremy was more than glad to kneel, his face levelling with 007's groin, and before Bond could open his fly he rubbed his face against the bulge there. He licked Bond's fingers as he opened his zip. Bond watched him with hunger, how he knelt there like a dog, worshiping every part of his body, sucking his fingers, licking his palms and wrists, eyes closed in obvious pleasure. Finally he moved to Bond's cock, trapped in tight boxers, and started to bite it tenderly, his saliva mixing with the precum and making wet spots on the white fabric.

"Stop teasing, you little shit!" Bond wrapped his hands in his incredible mop of black hair and pulled hard, so the boy had to look him directly in the eyes, and had to bite his lips to keep from moaning, looking at those brown eyes full of lust.

"You're only making it worse for yourself," he said and Jeremy purred, licking his lips.

"Suck."

He didn't let go of his hair but pushed him closer to his groin. Jeremy pulled the elastic waistband down, freeing his thick cock. His breath caught but before he could do anything, Bond grabbed the base and held it while pushing Jeremy on it. Jeremy swallowed his whole length at once, making the agent moan. Bond was sure the boy could give him a blowjob of his life, but right now all he wanted was to punish him for his teasing.

He started to fuck his mouth deep, slowly at first, but after just few thrusts he fucked him hard, listening to the chocking sounds. He wanted to be careful, he really did, but buried in that hot mouth he couldn't think straight. His knees gave out, too weak to hold him. He pulled Jeremy back, boy's lips made a wet pop and Jeremy sucked a deep breath.

After a while he noticed Bond left and when he looked around he found him sitting in the arm chair, only in his shirt, trousers lying on the floor with his boxers.

"Come here."

He stood up, knees shaking, and sat on agent's thighs.

"Higher."

Bond rubbed the boy's firm arse cheeks and raised him up to his mouth. Instead of his trembling cock he licked his arsehole, making Jeremy unstable on his legs.

Jeremy had to hold on Bond's shoulders while a clever tongue disappeared in his arse.

"Fuck me...! AU!" he screamed when Bond bit his cheek.

"Don't order me, or I'll tear you apart," he said it calmly but Jeremy shivered anyway. Bond could. Emotionally, physically, absolutely. Destroy him on every level. Once this agent gets under his skin, he could be his undoing.

His thoughts broke with a finger up his hole, too deep too soon, and he hissed at the burning sensation. Bond didn't give him much time to adjust, fucked him with his index finger, wet from his saliva. When Jeremy started pounding on him, Bond pulled out and shut him up with those fingers. Jeremy, surprised at the taste of his own arse, sucked while Bond licked him open.

This time was Bond more patient, carefully pushed two wet fingers into the hackers opening and was pleased to hear loud moans.

Bond had a little time to chill out and decided to spend more time with preparation. He didn't want to use lube and knew that if he won't prepare the boy right, it could be unpleasant for the both of them. So when he added the third finger and felt almost no reluctance, he had a real moral dilemma about sticking his cock inside him.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Bond, fuck me!" Jeremy shouted. Bond grinned.

"How will I explain to M that her most talented hacker can't sit on his pretty arse?"

"Do you really think you're the first guy to fuck me without lube? Don't flatter yourself..."

"That's enough!" Bond let go of Jeremy's thighs and pulled out his fingers and Jeremy immediately fell on his solid body. Bond growled into his face.

"For everything I will do from now on you can only blame yourself."

Jeremy grinned into those blue eyes but said nothing, bent down and took Bonds penis into his mouth just to wet it.

"Jesus, you little tease, I'll ruin you!" agent grabbed his hair and pulled him up.

"Promises, promises..." Jeremy grinned. Bond adjusted his cock so Jeremy could just lower his hips and sit.

"Fuck!" he moaned, not sure if from pain or pleasure, when his arse stretched around the head. "Jesus, Bond, fuck me!" and screamed when the stronger man obeyed, rolling his hips, getting deeper and deeper, trying not to lose his head but drowned in sensation. Jeremy bit his lower lip hard, fighting the pain, enjoying it, wanting more, not looking at consequences. He opened his eyes and saw agent's face, eyes closed in an expression of pleasure so strong, so unbearable... he rolled his hips down, breath catching at the pain but his head flinging back with joy when Bond groaned and tugged his fingers deeper into Jeremy's waist.

Jeremy fucked himself on Bond's cock, tears broke in his eyes and dropped on 007's abdomen, but he didn't even notice. All Bond could feel was the tight grip of Jeremy's hole, little burning but much more pleasure.

Jeremy cried out, but Bond couldn't hear anything besides his own sighs and Jeremy was glad for that, because he didn't want to stop, he did want to feel the pain. It was freeing. Feeling how high Bond was while he was... so low.

"Fuck me hard," he whispered into his ear. Bond pushed him to stand, quickly turned around him and made him bend over the armchair, slipping into him.

After the first thrust Jeremy screamed, pain mixing with a flash of delight when Bond found his prostate.

It lasted long and near the end Jeremy was lost in the pleasure and pain and he wanted to come so bad, but if he let go just one hand from the chair, he would collapse. Bond was almost there. Panting loud moans, shaking all over, sweating... he felt his oncoming climax and as his hands weakened and he let go of the boy's body. Jeremy fell onto his knees, agent's cock slipping out of him, and he ended up on the floor, Bond's cum covering him.

When the agent calmed down he knelt to him and kissed the boy. He gently picked him up and set him into the chair, caressing his shaking muscles. He kissed the way from his chin to his abdomen and finally swallowed his cock.

Jeremy Moaned and squirmed and after a while shot loads of cum into Bond's mouth. Bond stood up and picked his hacker up and with him on the shoulder found the bedroom with one small bed. They lay in it and covered themselves with sheets, not caring for the mess on them.

Bond hugged Jeremy from behind. The boy curled in his embrace.

"You little masochist," Bond whispered. "Are you alright?"

"Great," Jeremy smiled.

Bond fell asleep thinking about how this is not going to be easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even going to apologize anymore. If it's really bad, please write a comment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boys share their secrets. And shag, of course.

Jeremy woke up. The room was dark and he felt a warm body pressed to him from behind. He turned his head to find ice blue eyes staring at him.

"Morning," he said. Bond smiled.

"Morning. How are you?"

Jeremy squirmed and frowned at the sudden pain waking in his lower parts.

"Splendid. I'll need a waterbed instead of chair at work."

Bond grinned. "Entirely your fault."

"Well, I didn't fuck myself without lube."

"But you were very enthusiastic about doing it as quick as possible."

"Thank you reminding, now there are more sensible parts on my body."

Bond laughed and reached around Jeremy's hip to touch said sensible part. The hacker purred and closed his eyes.

"I hate to say it, but you confuse me," Bond slowly stroked the length in his palm, listening to hacker's catching breath.

"Confuse you?"

"Yes. I did think... but it seemed..."

"I am the one with a hand on my cock, I should talk nonsense, James."

James... it sounded so nice from the hacker. So normal. Like he was using it since ever.

"I thought you are submissive, my instincts told me, but you seemed... different. I couldn't think of any reason you should be."

"Hmmm... you are not that clear to me either."

Jeremy bucked his hips few times, thrusting into the hot palm. "I mean... oh, wait," he pushed the hand away and turned his whole body so he could lie face to face to the agent.

"It's not fair, you can think and I can't," he looked down, under the sheets, and watched as his fingers rubbed against James' penis.

"What did you mean? I am not clear? You thought I would like to be weak when I shoot people in the field?" asked Bond.

"No. But you are a strong man. People like you don't need to compensate anything, but you... you are brutal."

James frowned. "When you work for a corporation like MI6, it is all about following the rules. You know I don't response well to those. I can try as hard as I want to disobey, but although I do the better thing, save more important people or objects, even if the mission I've been told to do is a suicide action and the one I actually do is genial...I am always the stupid one. I don't care about stupid medals or people knowing my name, but when I stand in M's office and listen to her disapproval, I want to grab that fucking bulldog and smash it against the wall."

At the end of his speech, Bond was squeezing the sheets in fists, eyes looking behind Jeremy's shoulder. Jeremy stopped everything, just staring at the agent, hands on his chest. He never saw him like this - James Bond was known for his calm personality, sarcasm, taking problems like they don't exist. Now, naked and vulnerable, he revealed more than he did to anyone in years, the young hacker realised. Why, it was a...

Wait! It was no mystery! That bastard! He wanted Jeremy to talk about himself. Oh, and you call yourself a genius?

Jeremy had shown nothing from his sudden realisation. He just lifted one hand and touched the man's chin.

"And you?" Bond looked into his brown eyes. So different from Bond's wolfish gaze. Like a deer... James shivered when the realisation hit him. A wolf chasing a deer.

"Mine is..." Jeremy peeked down, examining James' chest. "A childhood trauma, I guess."

He paused, not knowing how to continue. His mother tried to help him by bringing him to therapists, and later, when he was intelligent enough to know his problems are too serious to deal with alone, he found some psychiatrists himself, but after some time he found out nothing was making it better. He found his passion in computers and hacking gave him strength to live and even happiness he so needed. But all those feelings stayed. His problems lived their own life under his skin.

Suddenly, he was pulled into an embrace, a hand caressed his back.

"You don't have to tell me," he whispered soothingly.

"I do," Jeremy shook his head and inhaled deeply. Because though he didn't want to talk about it with anyone who would try to help, he very much wanted to tell someone. Just tell, nothing more, nothing less, find a willow that would listen without judging. And Bond could be someone with a similar problem. Who could he talk to? MI6 inter psychiatrist? He was an idiot. Everyone knew.

"When I was little." he started, fighting the bulge forming in his throat. "My father left us. I never quite understood why, but after a time I believed it was because of me. I know, I am too intelligent to think it now, but... well, next. School was a total disaster, me and my books were the most hated objects in the class and soon in the whole school. All the bullies picked me as a target, because apparently, it was more fun to hunt in groups. High school didn't start best either, english teenagers want to be cool, nothing for a braniac like me. And MIT... well, there I tried to gain some friends in that fucked up way every boffin does. I did anything for them. Every homework, study, everything. And the directory found out and kicked me out of the school. So I guess what I want to say is that my life was a crap and it was my fault."

"No, it wasn't," James hugged him closer.

"I know..." Jeremy sighed. "But the feeling... of complete failure... it stays with me."

He was breathing against Bond's firm chest, eyes shut, empty pain filling him. This was the state he hated so much. His life was coming to him in flashbacks full of the worst memories. He wanted to rip himself off, tear his chest apart and crash the heart beneath.

"Don't," Bond whispered and caressed both Jeremy's hands pulled into fists. "Doesn't matter what happened. Forget schoolmates with IQ 50, forget stupid system. Now you are the brightest man in the whole MI6 and one of the best hackers in this world and I'm not just replaying your words. I know it."

Jeremy relaxed and exhaled deeply.

"Anytime you'll have the urge to hurt yourself, call me. It doesn't matter if I am in Bucharest or Iceland, you will be always able to find me. I promise, from now on, that I will pick up every ringing payphone."

Jeremy looked up to the agent's cut face, into those beautiful eyes.

"That is just the sweet talk after sex."

"Yes, it is," James brought his hand to boy's face and ran his thumb across his cheek. "But sometimes it's better what I say after orgasm that what I keep in me after a murder."

Jeremy smiled to himself. The urge to hurt left him, satisfied for now.

"I suggest shower," he said then, suddenly very aware of the fact he is covered in sperm and sweat. Bond's eyes lighted up.

"The single best idea of this evening!" he said before standing up and pulling Jeremy with him. "I hope you HAVE a shower," he joked while walking in Jeremy's steps into the bathroom.

"My flat is fully functional," Jeremy declared. "There is nothing I need and don't need."

"So your whole life consist of one arm chair, one bed and a shower?" they stepped into the shower corner.

"I have a sink and a toilet, see? And you haven't seen the kitchen yet," he let the water pour on his body. Bond had the time to look at him properly for the first time. Jeremy was a man by age and intelligence, but his personality was still stuck in his childhood traumas. His body was similar - clearly manlike, covered in dark hair and mild muscles. His figure, though, was so slim that Bond would fear to break him if he saw him before the sex they had.

He stepped into the flood and touched the elegant, firm back. Jeremy turned on him, seeking his eyes through curls of wet black hair.

"The car standing in front of this house," he started. Bond had to smile. On their way here Jeremy was probably too nervous to mention it, but now the tension left him enough to be professional again.

"Is it the Aston Martin you claimed not to have anymore?"

"I may have found it again and wanted to return it," Bond took a soap from a near shelf and started to wash the boy.

"You said it was blown up in Tehran."

"The explosion really happened."

"That calms my mind."

Bond leaned to his ear and slipped the soap in between his arse cheeks, feeling his shiver when the mild surface touched his sore opening. "Will a hard shag in that car shut you up?"

Jeremy worked his hand in between them and touched agent's awakening cock.

"That sounds promising," he purred, stroking the length slowly.

"Show me how that overused mouth of yours can work in hard environment," James's hand lay on Jeremy's shoulder and pulled him down until the boy kneeled in front of him.

Jeremy was encouraged by the visible twitch in Bon's impressive cock. The agent was obviously pleased just by the sight of his young hacker, on his knees, praising his body with those wide brown eyes.

Bond wanted to say something more, but Jeremy's warm mouth on his dick stopped him. Jeremy was determined to show the agent everything he knew, every move of tongue Bond missed in the morning.

And oh, how much he missed! James had to admit that now, when he wasn't in the heat of passion, nothing would feel better than this slow, deep, VERY DEEP swallowing, almost unbearable pressure like from a vacuum.

"Jesus, Jeremy..."

He was rewarded by such a hard suck he had to moan. Every burning nerve shouted at him to grab the boy's head and force him into some speed, but fortunately, Jeremy knew what to do - and James appreciated how well he knew it, quickly thrusting, his throat relaxed, his nose reached Bond's pubic hair almost every time. Then he changed the tactic, swallowed him deep and stayed like that, inhaling agent's scent before the water could totally wash it away. James forgot to breath (well someone should start breathing in this room).

Jeremy moved to another trick, one he knew James will like very much - he pulled out and inhaled before taking just the head in, and the tip of his tongue started to lick the sensitive fraenulum.

"Jeremy, wait..." James stopped him before breaking down. He had to lean against the wall, the cool surface cooled him down a little.

"Sit down," Jeremy advised and James obeyed, slowly going down the wall.

Jeremy kneeled between his legs and didn't waste a second to suck him in again. Now he started to lick along the length and his hand got to play with heavy balls. Bond hummed appreciatively.

"Come here," he said after a while and reached up to stop the water. They stood up, Bond pulled Jeremy out of the shower, quickly dried them with the towel he found lying on the radiator and lead him to the bedroom. He sat on the bed and when Jeremy tried to kneel by him, he pulled him up and had him sit in his lap.

"Now I'll show you my art," he smiled wolfishly. "Do you have lube?"

Jeremy nodded, but didn't move.

"Fetch!" James slapped his arse hard and Jeremy yelped before standing again and going to the bathroom. James had only few seconds to wondering if the boy ever had someone in here - or if he simply wasn't playing on having sex in this flat. And anyway, didn't he even masturbate? He didn't even know a gay without a lube in his bedroom.

When Jeremy was sitting on his thighs again, Bond took the lube and checked the expiration date. He raised his eyebrows at Jeremy.

"A little ancient, isn't it?"

Jeremy answered in a challenging tone.

"You didn't need it before, did you?"

James laughed, but something in his chest didn't feel right. He would be more comfortable if he knew Jeremy didn't have sex often. That he was his.

He popped the bottle open, squeezed some on his fingers and reached under and in between Jeremy's legs to his entrance, watching those hazel eyes. Jeremy struggled with keeping them open as those fingers pushed into him, sending sparks through his spine, pain from earlier mixing with hot pleasure. It took him all his self-control to stay upright for a minute because he knew how Bond liked watching his reactions, but when the older man found his prostate, he curled and hid his face in the crook of Bond's neck.

James smiled at the way Jeremy was clinging to him, sucking at the raw skin of his neck while he pushed second finger into him. He heard his quickening breaths and little catlike moans. The third finger went in.

"Oh!" the boy squinted. "More, please..."

James suspected him from self - torture again, so he waited through his pleading, patiently working him open, until he was sure he could stand a fourth one. When he did e it up his arse, Jeremy was bouncing on his hand, cursing under his breath and squeezing his knees tightly around James' thighs.

"James... fuck me, please, fuck me..."

Bond really wanted to. His throbbing cock almost exploded every time Jeremy moaned and he had to use every bit of self control he had to stop himself. He pulled his fingers out of Jeremy and the boy cried out.

"On the bed, face down, spread your legs," he ordered and the hacker quickly obeyed. Bond lay on top of him and shoved his cock into that hot hole.

Jeremy shouted. He thrust upwards and met Bond's groin. Bond was already close to cumming, he knew Jeremy was in the same state, so he worked a hand under him and stroked him few times. His other hand went to his hair and pushed his head into the sheets.

Jeremy's movements became more aggressive, but his head stayed pinned, he made no effort whatsoever to shake the hand off. Their orgasms came almost simultaneously, neither of them knew who came first, but their shouts filled the room, Jeremy's audible even through the mattress.

When they calmed down, Bond slipped off and lay beside him. Jeremy turned his head and sucked in a deep breath. The lack of air made his orgasm so much better and he had to just lay for a few minutes, savouring the feeling. 

"I guess we should shower again..." Bond said weakly. Jeremy snorted.

"I don't care if I give birth to a politician right now. The cum stays in and so do we. Good night."

Bond snuggled a little closer.

"Good night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: doratonkslupingaunt.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the story of one broken boy. Please, if you have self confidence problems, if you hurt yourselfs, reconsider reading this chapter, and in fact, maybe the whole story, for it is full of thoughts of someone that has the same problems. I don't want to trigger anyone.  
> To the chapter... let's say there is a reason Jeremy became Q and this is his first step to that position. Although he doesn't know it yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried a different approach and I think it really worked out well for me - I wrote it in slovak first and then translated it. Voila! And sorry, I know I didn't post anything in a looong time, but I had lots of procrastinating to do :D

There was a storm in the Q branch, a storm Jeremy has never seen before. He was standing in the corner and watching at over twenty people, shouting at each other, not one of them knowing what to do. The computers were overheating over simple actions. It was painful to watch.

In an unused office, otherwise belonging to the now nonexistent Quartermaster, were now four people discussing the situation - R and three highest ranking technicians, but the discussion lead nowhere so far. He could see their frustrated faces through the glass door. Q branch lacked a leader in crises like this one.

It all started with one Boeing 255 B falling into the Atlantic. Two hundred deaths. What was important to the MI6, thirteen of those people were members of a drug cartel and five were agents set to do the biggest drugs bust of this year. Three years long operation ended among fish.

R was a good boss, but not in crisis situations like this one. She just couldn't bring the team together and make them work as one. Jeremy watched how the discipline gradually left the department from the start, six thirty in the morning, and now he just stood there, drinking his third Earl Grey, and thinking about the luck Bond had, being in a train to Montenegro, and the closest he had to air was the plain he destroyed in Miami.

The office door opened and through the noise he could hear R's angry voice. Whatever they were discussing, they didn't come to a conclusion. Jeremy sighed heavily, hung his head, and with a deep intake of breath put his mug on the nearest desk and then jumped beside it.

Head after head turned in his direction. The room fell silent. R looked ready to punch him, some technicians were just scandalously shocked, others raised their eyebrows. He was just a simple bugs fixer, a part of a larger team, standing on a table between field reports and a laptop was a mild suicide for him. He has to speak quickly before someone starts to argue with him.

"Thank you for your attention," he started in a conversational tone. "I would gladly end this chaos. So, John!" he turned on a colleague with large glasses. "Take three people and start with deleting the information that police has about our targets. Angela, make a solid background to the false information that we created for the dead agents, hire their families, make them new lives. Well, you know what I mean. Liam, send a team to those magnates houses and stop every other agency to get there before us. We can still make this into a successful mission. Confiscate everything you can. And... Ben, call M and make sure nothing I just said wouldn't interfere with something that's been already taken care of."

When he finished his speech, he was ready for a crowd that will ignore him. Instead, the room moved with a new life. Surprised, he jumped down on the floor and saw R walking to him.

"Should I do something?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. Jeremy's throat dried out.

"Yes," he said. "Kill me later."

A corner of her mouth quirked, but she drew her lips close. Jeremy turned and quickly walked to his desk.

 

What he did not expect was that his little show will make him a temporary boss. He spent the rest of his day talking to technicians and even people from different departments, giving advices and new orders. He had a suspicion that some of those people were sent by R just to spice up his day. But when he stood up from his desk in the night, the crises was gone and he knew that now the original superiors could handle it.

He didn't hear from M the whole day and that made him more nervous than anything else. When he packed his things and turned around, he froze, looking into the steel grey eyes of his boss. He swallowed, found the last bits of his courage and moved to her.

He stopped five feet from her. She looked at him, nodded and turned away to watch the room's progress. He opened the door and, walking down the corridors, wondered what it meant for him.

 

Jeremy knew his fridge is absolutely empty, but he refused to stop in a shop. He closed his front door, put his laptop bag so it leaned against the wall, walked to the living room and sat to his armchair. He felt like a balloon - thin shell and nothing in it. Nothing and fear. And disgust. With himself, because he just made the biggest mistake since he first stepped into MI6. To be honest, he waited for this - mistakes were his second nature along with destroying things. He lived in a constant fear of his actions. But to fuck his life so colossally, that happened first time since MIT.

He hated himself. He knew what comes and it was just his fault. He overstepped his competence, gave orders that could destroy what wasn't destroyed yet, he commanded people ranked higher than him to break the law and made his superiors fools. He fought the authority. Didn't respect the rules. His long hidden arrogance and superiority over others showed again.

He could remember the first time someone told him he was too arrogant. Since then, he always watched himself never to be like that again. Today, he forgot to bite his tongue and now he's gonna pay for it.

He wanted to hurt himself. He DESIRED it. He stood up and noticed his legs are slightly trembling. He started to walk up and down his flat - a wall, dull pain and bruises, a fork, small stab wounds, unsatisfying, a knife, too much blood and scars... he stopped in front of a mirror in the bathroom. A razor, quick sharp pain and blood. No. He needed something else. Different pain. He needed a beating, someone...

He cursed. Bond forbade him. James. Anytime you'll have the urge to hurt yourself, call me. But how could he call now? Just day after they slept together. It was just a one night stand, maybe more nights, if he wants in the future, and Jeremy shouldn't take it as an invitation to his own private therapy.

He put the razor back to the cupboard. He promised him. And if he couldn't suppress his worst needs at least once, he should be really looking for another shrink. Maybe now he would finally find one that would actually help him.

When he was lying down to sleep, he was remembering all the things everyone ever told him to do instead of hurting himself, but he didn't want to do anything of that. And certainly he didn't want to do any exercises to boost his confidence, to think of his good qualities, to imagine people he loves comforting him and then replay their words to himself. He wanted to hate himself. So he chose a golden middle path and fell asleep with his pillow wet from tears.

 

Morning is wiser than night. Jeremy woke up to a sharp sun that stabbed his eyes. He turned on other side, but his phone showed that he slept for over eight hours, so he kicked himself out of the bed. His eyes stung mildly, but it was nothing a good coffee and some water couldn't solve. The morning was almost same as ever if he didn't count the unpleasant way his stomach wiggled when he thought of his work. But he didn't see it so black anymore. No one was going to kill him and maybe not even fire, but he still didn't want to think of yesterday.

He dressed and went to MI6. The second he walked through the door of Q branch, one of his superiors, William Gordy, told him M was looking for him. Jeremy nodded and turned in the direction of elevator, not even putting down his things. The secretary let him to M's office and she pointed him to sit across the table from her.

"I understand you realise why I called you here," she looked at him with her wrinkled eyes and he nodded. "Yesterday was a difficult day for all of us. That doesn't excuse your superiors from letting the pressure destroy their ability to think clearly, as well as it doesn't give you the right to promote yourself and give orders without authorisation. You had a tremendous luck those orders were right."

Jeremy was slightly nodding along all the time she talked, his eyes never leaving the wood of her table top.

"Your superiors want your head."

His throat dried out. Now the verdict will be made.

"You can go."

Surprised, he raised his head and looked at M. She went back to typing at her computer, not paying him any attention.

"Should I... go to the Q branch, or..."

She glared at him.

"Of course, to the Q branch. Or are you thinking of a change of your qualification?"

"But... you said they want..."

"That was a simple statement. The fact they want your head does not mean I will give it to them. They made bigger mistakes than you did. Just because they are insulted that a boy like you overpissed them, that doesn't mean I will be on their side. You did your job well. If you didn't, your future in this institution would be gone."

And she turned to the monitor again. Jeremy stood from the chair, not clearly believing his luck, and with one last "madam" left the office.

 

It lasted whole twenty minutes until Jeremy found out what his next few days will look like. His table was filled in a matter of minutes with papers with a Finance Department heading. He smashed his head into the keyboard few times and got to work.

Around lunch, Tony Harlen, one of the offended, came to his table and started to play with a file in his hands.

"Hey, Trate!" he greeted him with a malicious joy. "This money transaction order came in from Bond. Ten million pounds, so you will have to check every action... at least three times. And then again. To be sure."

Jeremy's mind stopped working at Bond's name. He took the papers and ignored Harlen's commentary when the man was leaving. He went through the papers and his stomach filled with warmth. Bond. James.

He shouldn't be hooked like this. And certainly not after one night. He knows very well how this will end, and it terrified him a bit that he was actually looking forward to it. All the pain. He was fucking crazy when he craved pain. Sometimes he thought he is picking those guys that will hurt him on purpose. Now he could choose between a man that will cause him physical pain and missing that man.

And somehow, he chose both.


End file.
